A Change of Heart
by Freakinamask
Summary: Becky Albright. The girl who stood up to the scarecrow, but rejecting a villain  has consequences. Can Becky keep her sanity and her life or will she become the Mistress of Fear...
1. Chapter 1

A Change of Heart Chapter One 

'He was right' 

Becky Albright shook her head. He hadn't been right. Hitting back at the world wasn't the way to deal with her past. that was why she had refused his offer. Her mind flashed back to the day. 

She lay sprawled out on the rooftop where she'd fallen. one arm raised up to her head in an attempt to defend herself. She curled into herself as the Scarecrow walked towards her. She couldn't see his face through his mask but he seemed menacing to her. He carried a bag. What did he have in there that could make her situation worse. 

"What do you want with me? Haven't you done enough? She asked her voice wavering. 

"I understand your pain Becky" He'd answered, pulling somthing out of the sack. "And I want to help you."... 

The thing in the sack had been a dress. a tight corset. That would reveal rather a lot of her chest. And a skirt that resembled a spray painted garbage bag, she could tell it would be easy to move in. There was a mask much like his. And somhow she'd known it would fit her perfectly 

She snapped back to the present and glanced around her apartment. Nothing seemed to have happened in the moment she'd been lost in thought. He'd offered her the chance to be his mistress. To hit back at the world. She'd said no of course. Then Batman had showed up and caught him. She'd been congradulated on standing up to the Scarecrow. Then she'd gone home. Back to an ordinary life with electric bills, work, and no obsessive stalkers. 

She'd been tempted. Very tempted. She'd wanted to hit back at the world. But she'd been to afraid to try. Besides, what about her family and her friends. Her life. She couldn't just leave it all. So she'd said no, she was glad she'd said no. It was over. So why couldn't she stop thinking about him. 

"Jonathon it's been six months. You'll have to talk about her sometime." sighed Dr Leland, exasperatedly.

Jonathon Crane simply glared at her. "Doctor I have already said I will talk about anything other than that incident with Becky Albright." He replied tersly. 

Dr Leland sighed and motioned to the guard to take him back to his cell. "We'll continue this session some other time then Jonathon. But you'll have to talk about her sooner or later." 

Jonathan Crane returned to his cell in silence. He lay down on the lumpy matress seething. How dare that second rate psychologist bring up that incident. His great humiliation. Becky Albright. And how dare that GIRL refuse him. He'd offered her the chance to be his Mistress. To hit back at the world. She had every right to. But she'd said no. She'd REJECTED him! HIM! The Master of fear. The Scarecrow. He knew she wanted to hit back at them. He'd seen it in her eyes. She'd wanted to join him. But she was to afraid of what the world would think. To worried about the restraints of society to throw off her shackles and join him. He had some consolation though. He'd shown that she could hit back. That the oppurtunity was there. And that wasn't somthing she could easily forget, and the effects of his fear gas would have left there mark. even if she wouldn't join him. He doubted she'd be able to stop thinking about him. Maybe one day she'd join him. 

Even if she didn't at least he had the memory of her screams. 

Becky wandered aimlessly through the streets of Gotham. It was her day off and her original plan had been to have a lazy day. But she couldn't stop thinking about the incident six months ago. So she'd gone out. Attempting to rid her thoughts of the Scarecrow. And his far too inticing offer. She shouldn't be this tempted. She knew it was wrong. She knew that she'd done the right thing by moving on from her past. Maybe she needed closure. The Scarecrow was in Arkham. She could try and visit him there. Maybe seeing where his choices got him would make her see she'd made the right one. 

Dr Joan Leland surveyed the woman in front of her. Becky Albright stared back. She knew her request to visit the man who kidnapped her was unusual. Most people would simply move on and try to forget. But that hadn't worked. So she was trying somthing else. Dr Leland broke the silence first. 

"Are you sure you want to see him, it's very irregular." 

Becky nodded determinedly. "I need closure Doctor. I think that seeing the Scarecrow, in a secure enviroment. Will give me that." 

Dr Leland sighed, "If that's what you want." She stood and motioned for Becky to follow her. 

"He's this way." 

The Scarecrow was lying in his cell when the guard came to fetch him. 

"Hey Crane. You got a visitor." 

Jonathon sat up. Surprised. He had a visiter. He never got visiters, unless it was police or a seemingly endless stream of psychologists. 

"Who?" he demanded. 

The guard shrugged. "Some girl, now come on" he snapped impatiently. Jonathon followed the guard out of his cell. Curious. What girl would want to visit him. The visiting room was a featureless room. The tables and chairs bolted down. There had been a nondescript painting on the wall. But another patient had smashed it onto a visitors head. There were no more decorations. 

Crane barely noticed this. To shocked at the identity of his visitor. Sat in the chair opposite him. Was Becky Albright.


	2. Chapter 2

A Change of Heart. Chapter Two 

Becky gulped inaudibly. "Hello Dr Crane." 

The Scarecrow watched her intently as he dropped into a chair. She was nervous. Of course she was nervous. He was the master of fear. She should cower before him in terror. All of Gotham should cower before him in fear. 

"Mrs Albright." he said stiffly. "To what do I owe your visit." 

Becky hesitated before replying. She didn't want to let him know she'd been having second thoughts about his offer, he was an ex-psychologist and she knew he'd prey on that. But by that same fact she knew he'd probably be able to tell she was lying. She settled for a half-truth. 

"I needed some closure for that incident six months ago." she replyed. It wasn't a lie. Not really. 

"Oh having second thoughts?" He smirked. Becky flinched. How had he guessed so quickly. She avoided his gaze. 

The Scarecrow saw her flinch and his eyes widened. He'd just been guessing. Attempting to disturb and frighten her. He hadn't expected her to realise he was right on a consious level. Subconsiously perhaps but considering her reaction it would seem his offer had been in her thoughts a great deal. 

"Hmm it would seem I'm correct. Tell me, why did you refuse my offer?" he enquired. Curiosity creeping over his expression. 

"Because what you do is wrong." She replyed quietly. Still not looking at him. "And I don't want to end up like you." 

The Scarecrow laughed. "Oh, and what makes you so sure what I do is wrong. All men are motivated by fear. It drives everything we do. I simply harness that." He leaned across the table. "And are you afraid of ending up like me? Or being judged by society?" He leaned back "You know what you are afraid of Becky. And had you joined me. You would be fearless by now." 

Becky stood. "I have to go. Goodbye Dr Crane" she said stiffly. She turned to leave.A guard approached Crane and began to lead him out of the room. 

"Do come and visit again Miss Albright. If you don't I may have to visit you." He called over his shoulder smirking. 

Becky shivered as she left the asylum. She'd have to visit him again. She had no doubt that he'd hold true to his word if she didn't. And she did not want the Scarecrow as a house guest. But he'd realised she was tempted almost immediatly, and she knew he'd be trying to work that to his advantage. Still she was no Harley Quinn. She knew his past and she wasn't going to let him use sympathy or seduction to break her. She would be stronger than that. She would not be his mistress. But still a small voice in the corner of her mind whispered. Would that be such a bad thing. 

Jonathon Crane smiled to himself in his cell. He was confident that his last words to her would ensure a return visit. Considering what happened last time he was at her house he was certain she wouldn't want a repeat. He doubted he'd be able to break her from inside Arkham. Subtle manipulation could only accomplish so much without physical stimuli. But he could plant ideas in her mind, doubts, he could make her lower her guard. Then when he escaped. He'd break her. 

Becky had some difficulty explaining to Joan Leland why she wanted to continue visiting Jonathon Crane. The closure exscuse wouldn't explain why she wanted regular visits. In the end she simply claimed that she felt sorry for him and wanted to show him there were other ways to deal with the past. Dr Leland seemed sceptical but accepted the lie. She had no reason not to. 

The Scarecrow was certainly interesting to talk to. When he wasn't ranting about fear he was good for a conversation. He and Becky often discussed inconsequential topics, they were both a fan of classic horror and spent many hours discussing novels such as Dracula and Frankenstein. Ocasionally the conversation leaked into Becky's personal life. Such as her job, selling womans clothing in a small boutique. She had been unable to find work with a law firm. The Scarecrows past offer to her tended to scare off potential employers. Becky didn't notice how Crane seemed to enjoy feeding her anger at society in general for denying her the career she wanted. 

So far. Crane was pleased with Becky's progress. She was beginning to show some disgust for society. The fact she couldn't get the job she wanted was an excellent starting point, soon she'd begin to see the world as he wanted. His one qualm was that she didn't rely on him. He didn't want total dependance. But the fact was that though he could see she enjoyed their sessions she didn't crave them as a source of stability he wanted he wanted her to. What he needed was for her to suffer a tragedy, somthing that would alienate her from the rest of society. Then he'd be there. The sympathetic listener. There for her. He smirked. He could probably break her now if he wished. It would take time. But he was confident that if he escaped and put her under enough stress physically and mentally that she would snap. But the more he conditioned her now the easier it would be. A little longer to twist her. Alienate her just a little more. Then she would be his for the taking. He put the word out to his boys in Gotham. Becky Albright needed to suffer a tragedy. The loss of the one person she trusted. Being the only survivor of a horrific event. Provoked into lashing out. Somthing that would leave her open and vunerable. Then he would escape. And he would take her. And she would be his Mistress of Fear.


	3. Chapter 3

Change of Heart. Chapter Three. 

Becky Albright was beginning to enjoy her sessions with Crane. She shouldn't. She knew that. She was only there because he'd threatened to come after her if she didn't. But Dr Crane was an interesting man. And Becky had discovered much to her suprise that she did have a lot in common with him. She'd even begun to understand, if not condone, his reasons for doing what he did. A small part of her envyed him, he did whatever he wanted and didn't care what people thought. He'd hit back at the world. And had clearly enjoyed it. She put it out of her mind. She had a date. Her mouth curved into a smile as she thought of Cal, her long term boyfriend. He was the only man she'd met willing to date her despite the Scarecrow's claim on her. They'd been together four months. And they were very much in love. Cal was sweet and loving, and everything she could ever want in a man. Except, unwillingly her thoughts drifted to a skinny man with greasy brown hair, who dressed in burlap and had a penchant for toxins. She shook her head. Trying to remove the image from her mind. She didn't want the Scarecrow. He was a maniac. It was simply an errant thought. Nothing more. Her phone began to ring. Becky smiled, it was Cal. She picked up. "Hey Cal, I'm almost ready." 

Cal coughed. "Um that's the thing, I'm not going out with you tonight Beck's." 

Becky's smile dimmed slightly, "Did somthing come up?" she asked. 

"Uh not exactly Beck's. I just... I don't wanna see you any more ok. I'm bored with you and I want someone with a bit more, yah know." He coughed awkwardly. 

Becky held the phone to her ear. Stunned into silence. He was dumping her. HER. She who could have been the Mistress of Fear. She'd make him beg. She'd make him regret this. She jerked her head sharply. She was not going to do anything to Cal, and why in God's name had she thought of the Scarecrows offer. Why did that matter. Why was she even thinking of it. She was dimly aware that Cal was still talking, she switched her attention back to the phone. 

"Beck's? Beck's babe you there? Say something please?" 

"Never call me that again. I don't know why I didn't see this earlier. You're an arsehole and I never want to hear from you again." She hung up. 

Cal glanced at the now dead phone in his hand, then back at the large man pointing a gun at him. "Ok I dumped her. Now will you let me go." he quavered. 

The man grinned lazily the Scarecrow had been quite clear on what to do with any witness's to his plan. "Well," the man pretended to consider it "I guess you did what I said pretty well. And you wouldn't tell a cop, or you pretty girlfriend. Sorry EX-girlfriend now would you?" he could see the Cal's eyes practically light up with hope. 

"Of course not sir it'd be our secret" he gabbled. Little creep. 

"But," the man smirked. "You really upset the bosses girl, and I'm afraid I can't let you get away with that, we've got her reputation to think of." 

"What reputation. She HAS no reputation." Cal was practically screaming now. 

The man grinned, "Not yet, but the boss is gonna change that. You should be proud. You can say you dated the Mistress of Fear, and lived to tell the tale." He laughed, "Oh wait, you didn't." He shot Cal at point blank range. The silencer covered all noise, Cal didn't even have time to scream. The man dumped the body in a river. Considering the amount of corpses that washed up in this city no-one would make a great deal of fuss over this one. He went to collect his reward. Grinning all the while. He was expecting big bucks from this one. The money was handed to him in a black briefcase, how Hollywood. He opened it expecting to see row upon row of bundled up notes. Instead a nozzle sprayed him with some sort of gas.`He fell to the floor choking, then he began to laugh. His lips curved up into the terror inducing smile signature of the Jokers' Joker gas. Gassed with a toxin that would automatically be linked to the Joker, the doctors probobly wouldn't even bother with an autopsy. The hitman in question had told nobody about this job. Or who hired him. The only witness was currently fish food in the bottom of the river. And the man who had given him his 'payment'. Had no idea what he'd done to warrent death. The Scarecrow would never be linked to this particular crime. The crime that would give him his mistress. 

Becky Albright was upset. She'd really liked Cal, and couldn't believe he'd just rejected her like that. She sighed and looked around her apartment. She'd cleared her entire evening for her date. She changed changed back into her denim skirt and t-shirt. Hanging her full legnth dress back in the closet. She flopped down onto her couch. What was she going to do now. Her eyes flickered to her Arkham pass. Of course, she visited most friday nights, and her pass authorised her access to the Scarecrow for two hours every friday. She walked over to the pass and pocketed it. Hell. What else did she have to do anyway. 

The Scarecrows eyes flickered up disinterestly as the guard approached his cell. He knew Becky wasn't visiting him tonight. She had plans, not that he knew specifics. Much to his irritation she had been infuriatingly vague when questioned. "Crane, visitor." the guard droned. His mind more on his next coffee break than the job at hand. Crane raised an eyebrow in question. But the guard ignored it. He just wanted his shift over. Crane followed him to the visitor's room. He didn't know who it could be, unless. He hid a grin. Unless his grooming of Becky was more advanced than he'd thought and she'd cancelled her plans to see him. He grinned despite himself when he saw Becky in the chair opposite his. He sat down. "Good evening Becky. I thought you had plans." 

Becky shrugged. She seemed upset about somthing. "My date cancelled." she muttered. 

Jonathon raised an eyebrow. She'd had a date, well that complicated things. A current relationship would make breaking her a little harder. "Oh, why? I can't imagine why a man would cancel on you. I'd have thought he'd appreciate his luck." 

Becky blushed. Flattered. "He broke up with me, apparently I bore him." her voice broke a little towards the end. Almost a sob. The Scarecrow hid his glee at that. Wonderful she was even more isolated. He wondered if his boys in Gotham had arranged this little rejection. It did leave her wonderfully vunerable. 

"Bore him." Jonathon made sure he sounded suitably scandalised. "Why Becky you're one of the most engaging intelligent intruiging people I've ever met." he stated. Carefully watching for her reaction. 

Becky blushed. "Thank's Jonathon. I can't believe I was so into him. He just wasn't worth my time I guess." She smiled. It should bother that a villain like the Scarecrow was so full of praise for her. But it didn't. it was nice to be told such flattering things. 

The Scarecrow smiled. She might not realise it, but she'd called him Jonathon. It didn't seem like much. But as long as he'd known her she'd referred to him as Scarecrow, Crane or Dr Crane. The fact that she'd began to use his informal name showed that she was becoming more familiar with him. She was almost ready. All he needed was a show of trust. Then she'd be ready. Ready to be his mistress. 

Becky was beginnig to get over Cal. Yeah he'd hurt her. But she had to admit. if grudgingly. That Jonathon Crane had helped her a lot. He listened, and he seemed sympathetic. She liked him. She even trusted him to a degree. As she'd shown during her last visit. She remembered the conversation. 

-Flashback- 

Becky laughed at some comment Jonathon had made about the Batman. Pushing her red hair behind one ear. 

"Of course I doubt you'd stand much of a chance against the Bat. I've been dealing with him for years. And he still tends to get the upper hand" he'd sighed. 

Becky snorted. "More of a chance than you'd think. I've learnt a few tricks in the last few months." she'd replyed. 

Crane had smirked. "Such as?" 

"Well I took some self defense classes, and I've got this." she'd replyed, twisting the handle of her cane to display the knife hidden within. 

Crane studied it with interest "Well little mouse, what a clever little device. I doubt many muggers would see that coming." 

She'd laughed. "Probably not, it's my secret weapon. The ace up my sleeve so to speak." 

"I see." he'd murmured. An unusual expression on his face. 

Then the moment was gone and they moved onto other topics. 

-Flashback over- 

Becky ran a hand through her hair. It probably didn't mean much. It was just a cane. But it had ment somthing to her. A sign of trust. She turned on the TV. Then gave a double take. The Scarecrow had escaped. If he'd escaped there was a good chance he'd come here, much as she might like him she did not want the police knocking on her door looking for the Scarecrow. She snatched up an overnight bag and threw some clothes in. She'd spend the night in a motel, to put her mind at ease. She hurried out of the apartment. Cutting down a side alley. Suddenly an arm shot out of the shadows and grabbed her around the waist. Pulling her towards a tall thin figure. Becky struggled then tried to twist the handle of her cane. If she could just get the knife inside. Her attacker knocked it out of her hand. How had he known. Unless. Becky began to get a sinking feeling. It couldn't be. He wouldn't. She'd trusted him. 

"I don't think so little mouse." the Scarecrow hissed in her ear. Becky felt a needle enter her everything went black.

A/N and so the story progresses. Scarecrow kidnaps becky. Silly girl. Why on earth did you trust the master criminal. Oh no poor Cal. Scarecrows getting possessive. (Ok so it was for the purposes of manipulation but still...) I own nothing yadda yadda yadda, probably should have said that earlier.

Thanks to all my reviewers. Specifically

Glencoco: Thankyou and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

( ): Hmm. Unfortunately I've already planned out the story and will be unable to add this to the plot. But I may write a oneshot of it later on as it is a good idea. I really think that he might have believed that. Silly man. Well Arkam doesn't let the fangirls in to visit. (Boo hoo)

Those two got mentios because I was unable to PM them my thanks. But once again i extend my thanks to all those who reviewed faved and added this story to there alerts.


	4. Chapter 4

A Change of Heart Chapter Four 

Becky came to slowly. Shaking her head to clear her mind of the after-effects of Cranes drug. She glanced around her cell. She was lying on a bare matress with a small blanket covering her. She realised with a start that she was naked. she clutched her blanket to her. It barely covered her breasts. The door handle began to turn and Becky hunched up in an attempt to conceal as much skin as possible as Crane walked in. She could see his eyes running up and down her body, appreciating the view. Becky glared. Crane smirked. There was silence for a few minutes. Becky broke first. 

"What the hell is this Crane, and where are my clothes?" She snapped angrily. 

Crane smirked, he'd figured that little fact would get to her, "I'm afraid as to the whereabouts of your clothes, well, when I dragged you here I'm afraid your clothes got a little torn, so I undressed you." he gave his creepiest smile, he knew that last fact would disturb her. 

"You pervert. What the hell is this all about I visited you in Arkham didn't I." Becky was practically yelling at this point. She shuddered, God knows what sort of liberties he'd taken whilst undressing her. 

Crane shrugged. "Well it's really your own fault, if you hadn't visited me in Arkham I'd probably have let you be, but then you came to see me and I remembered," His smirk morphed into a glare "I don't do well with rejection." 

Becky seemed to shrink into herself, was this really her fault. If she'd just left things well alone and moved on... It was her fault. 

Crane supressed a grin, she seemed to be losing confidence already, the months he'd spent grooming her from within Arkham had done it's job. 

"Don't be to concerned my little mouse, I won't kill you, unless you behave very badly." 

Becky glanced up. "Why?" she asked, she was just a normal girl, and she'd rejected him. Why wasn't she dead? 

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, she hadn't figured it out yet. Denial perhaps? "Well Becky I still need a Mistress, and your just perfect." 

Becky's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, shock apparent in her expression. 

The Scarecrow continued seemingly unaware of her reaction. "Socially isolated, lonely. A past simiar to my own in many ways, a certain darkness to your personality. You see in many ways we're very well suited for each other." 

Becky glared at him defiance in her eyes. "I am nothing like you." she stated quietly, "I don't get a kick out of scaring people." 

The Scarecrow laughed, "No but you'd like to. You forget my dear, you poured your heart out to me in Arkham. And I am a psychologist after all" He smirked. 

Becky flinched at the laugh. How could she ever have seen this man as a friend. He was a monster, pure and simple. And yet, he had listened to her, and he was right, she was lonely. NO, she shook her head vehnemently. He hadn't listened to her, he'd tricked her, he was no friend of hers. 

Jonathan watched his words take effect. He watched Becky shake her head. Perhaps a certain thought had disturbed her. He'd often seen her do that in Arkham. When asked she'd simply reply that it was an errant thought. As far as he could tell these thoughts usually concerned him, and her increasingly softening attitude towards him. His face twisted in annoyance. As useful as these 'errant thoughts' might be for him, nothing like some self doubt to open a mind up to manipulation. He did not want to risk Becky developing an alternate personality. One Mistress of Fear was quite enough. God knows the rouges gallery did not need another Two-face. 

"Your not a doctor any more Crane." Becky whispered. 

The Scarecrow glared, even if his medical license had been revoked. It was not a fact he liked to be reminded of. 

"That may be so little mouse, but I still have enough knowledge of my previous proffession to be able to make this diagnosis. You want to be my Mistress, consiously or not I've been in Arkham enough times to know the signs. I could tell Harley Quinn was ripe for the Jokers picking long before her first session with the man, and you my dear are even riper than she was. Though for an entirely different master." Crane smiled a little, now for the fun part. "I was going to give you some clothes from that bag you had when I caught you. But as you've been so rude I think I'll give you an outfit of my choosing." He strode out into the hallway, long legs covering the distance quickly. He grasped a black bin bag just outside the door. He'd planned to make her wear this the whole time of course. but she didn't know that. 

He strode back into the room and tossed the bag at her. Becky opened the bag cautiously, half expecting to be fear gassed for her trouble. What was in the bag, was far worse in her eyes. 

The Scarecrow watched his Mistress-to-be hurl the bag, and the clothes within across the room. 

"I am not wearing THAT." she snapped. Glaring even as she attempted to cover her body. 

The Scarecrow shrugged. He'd expected a reaction like that of course. "Then you can wear nothing." he stated calmly. He ran his eyes over her body. "Either way I'll enjoy the view." He left. Fairly sure of what she'd choose. He stepped into the hallway and opened the door next to hers. He entered a room with several large monitors. All showed Becky from different angles. Her room was full of camera's. He watched as Becky tentatively reached for the bag and pulled out the clothes within. It was a copy of the costume he'd attempted to give her six months ago. It wasn't the original. That was currently gathering dust in some police evidence locker. But this would suffice. He watched as she pulled on the dress. Adjusting the corset and smoothing out the skirt. It fit her perfectly. Crane was rather pleased with himself. He hadn't known her exact measurements so he'd had to guess. It would seem he'd guessed right. 

Becky sighed as she pulled on the mask. The way it was attached to the dress ment it wouldn't stay up otherwise. She didn't particulaly mind the dress. It was exciting and made her feel very daring. It was so different from what she normally wore. It was what the outfit represented. He'd beaten her in this aspect, she was wearing the clothes of his choosing and it gave him a victory. She tried to ignore the small voice in the back of her mind that ooh-ed and aaah-ed over how well it fit her. She tried to ignore the part of her that thought that he was, in his own way, being quite sweet. He obviously cared if he was going to the trouble of kidnapping her like this. Maybe being his mistress wouldn't be THAT bad. Becky shook her head and lay back down on her mattress. She needed to get some sleep. The stress must be making her loopy. She fell asleep on the thin lumpy matress. Her dreams were filled with crows and cornfields. And in the middle of it all a scarecrow that called for her.


	5. Chapter 5

A Change of Heart Chapter Five

Jonathan Crane was a happy man. He wasn't happy very often, with the exception being when he was testing his toxins of course. But today he was happy, and why wouldn't he be? Fear toxin broke a mind. Which was exactly what he wanted it to do admittedly but was more of a task for the chemist inside him rather than the psychologist. Now though, he had an interesting young woman at his mercy. A woman with the perfect psychological profile to be a rogue. A woman he could break. Well that wasn't quite it, if he simply wanted to break her he'd just use his fear toxin to the point where she became a vegetable. The truth was a little bit more complicated. He could shatter her mind if he wished but then the damage would be irrepareable, the best he could hope for would be a mindless drone, he wanted her useable. Yes he wanted to break the weak, society-bound woman he watched through the cameras. But it wasn't that simple, he wanted her broken bit by bit, as he slowly moulded her mind into something more to his liking. She was already his, she just didn't realise it. He watched her pale face on the screen. She was afraid. Huddled up on the corner of her mattress. He watched as her eyelids began to droop. She must be exhausted he realised. Whilst he might be used to going days without food or rest in the name of his experiments, she was no doubt used to far more mundane sleeping patterns and being drugged wasn't quite the same as sleep. He watched her stretch out on the lumpy mattress. Admiring the way the costume she wore hugged her figure. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was sleeping. He smiled grimly. He'd watched her long enough, time to get to work. He pushed a small button on the terminal. Immediatly a strange droning noise filled Becky's cell. It seemed fairly random. With no beat or recognisable lyrics. However it was anything but. The use of subliminal messaging was a topic that broached much contoversy in the psychiatric community. Especially since it was banned due to advertising. Then again the legality of his methods had never been much of an issue with the Scarecrow. The message currrently worming it's way into Becky's subconsious was quite a simple one really. Just a few sentences, 'You will be my Mistress of Fear' He suspected she knew that already. She just needed to hear it. 

Jonathan let the recording play for a few hours before switching it off. She'd probably remain asleep for a few hours longer. But he didn't want to risk her learning of this particular method. Besides he didn't really plan on having the subliminal messaging play a huge part in Becky's 'therapy'. It might help it might not. Either way it couldn't hurt. Scarecrow leant back in his chair and studied the screen. He'd begin work on her as soon as she awoke. It was only a matter of time. 

Becky moaned slightly and shivered. Why was it so cold? She reached for her duvet only for her fingertips to touch the cold floor. Her eyes flew open. Oh God she remembered. the alley and Jonathan... that God awful costume, what was it he'd said to her? 

_"You want to be my Mistress, consiously or not I've been in Arkham enough times to know the signs. I could tell Harley Quinn was ripe for the Jokers picking long before her first session with the man, and you my dear are even riper than she was. Though for an entirely different master." _

He'd smirked as he said it. Becky shuddered at the memory. And she'd thought that being fear-gassed was bad enough. He was going to keep her here under lock and key. Until she did the thing she was most afraid of. Until she became like him, blindly lashing out at the world for the sake of some petty revenge. He wasn't going to let her go until she was a monster like him. She glanced across the room, then a familiar object caught her eye. Her handbag. Crane must have put it there. She scrambled over to it and emptyed it's contents on the floor. Searching desperatly for somthing she could use she spotted something and snatched it up eagerly Scarecrow hadn't thought to take this particular item. She breathed a sigh of relief. He'd taken her phone of course. She'd expected that. But he hadn't taken her keys. She sat up. Eying the ring of small silver keys. She'd taken self defense classes after Cranes original offer, and one thing the instructors had been very clear on was how everyday objects could be utilised as weapons. Pencils, handbags. Keys. Stab someone hard enough with a set of keys and it could cause serious damage. She'd once told Crane she'd rather die than join him. She'd meant it. It was with this thought in mind that Becky jammed her housekey into her wrist. She cried out in pain but didn't stop. She dragged the key up her arm before yanking it out and driving it deep into her otheer arm. Blood gushed from her arms. She screamed as she finally yanked the key out dropping it on the floor. She gazed at her arms weakly. She must have torn some veins open. Good, she thought resolutly she'd die quicker that way. Suddenly Jonathan Crane rushed into the room. His expression somewhere between rage and concern. She raised her arms to push him away. He was a doctor. She knew that if he got to her he'd save her. Then he'd destroy her and make her his. He pushed her arms aside easily before lifting her and carrying her quickly from the room. The everything went black. 

Jonathan Crane was reading when he heard Becky cry out. He looked at the moniter and was horrified to see Becky carving her arm up with her keys. Rage surged through him. She was HIS! She was not going to escape him like this. She was his Mistress and he was going to make sure he had her. The perfect ally against the Bat. She was NOT going to die on him like this. All this raced through his mind. Why oh why had he left her her keys. He ran into her cell. She put up her arms in a vain attempt to fend him. Jonathan pushed her arms aside roughly and grabbed her, carrying her out of the room. Her eyes rolled back into her skull. Good. It would be much easier to stitch her arms up if she wasn't struggling all the while. Crane carried her into a large sterile looking room. The vast array of chemicals spread around the room made it's function clear. This was Cranes laboratory Becky stirred weakly as Crane laid her out on an empty table . He hurried over to a cupboard and dug out the object of his quest. A first aid kit. Calmly and methodically he began to stitch up Becky's arms. She'd live. She hadn't lost enough blood for an effective suicide. Good thing he'd installed those cameras in her room or else it could have been hours until he'd looked in on her. Crane finished sewing up his Mistresses arms and looked her over. She'd have some scars, not that he was partcularly bothered about that. The real problem was how to punish her. He'd take away her keys of course. As well as everything else in that handbag of hers. He really shouldn't have left it there, but he hadn't thought she could do anything with some makeup and a set of keys. Evidently he'd been wrong. But she needed to be punished for this blatant act against his authority. He coud let his henchmen have her for the night? NO! He rejected the thought almost immediatly. She was his and was not to be soiled by a mere henchman. No it would have to be somthing else. Refuse to give her any morphine perhaps? Those stitches would certainly be painful when she awoke. Yes, he decided, he would give her an entirely different drug. A dark look twisted his features. He hadn't wanted to use fear-gas on her. But this complete lack of regard for his authority had to be punished. And fear was such an effective detterant. She'd learn that he was her master. And not to be defied. 

And besides. She had such pretty screams. 

Becky awoke for a second time that day. Only to realise that she was not alone this time. Jonathan Crane was watching her from the other side of the room, dressed in his full scarecrow attire. She couldn't see his face but she gathered from his body language that he was angry. She sat up and winced. Her arms felt like hell. She studied her arms. The jagged cuts she'd made with her keys were neatly stitched up. Crane must have done it. She groaned. So much for her suicide attempt. Then Crane spoke. 

"I really am very disappointed in you Becky, I let you have your handbag and this is how you repay me. I decide to ignore your rejection, after all it isn't your fault that society is the way it is, I decide to teach you the way the world works and give you another chance. And you try to kill yourself. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" 

Becky spat at him. "I'd rather die than be like you Crane. You a monster, and your insane." 

To Becky it seemed like he hadn't even moved then suddenly he was in front of her and he was backhanding her across the face. He was suprisingly strong for a man of his build and Becky went flying. She was was knocked into the wall where she leant against the cold bricks and glared at him as she felt her face. She winced, she would have quite a bruise in a few hours. Crane stood over her glaring. 

"As I've already told you I am not insane this is a perfecty logical reaction to what I went through and you will not speak to me like that again." he told her bluntly. He fingered his canister of fear-gas. If she apologised he might leave her without using it. That slap would leave a large mark, coupled with the cuts on her arms the pain from refusing her morphine would be enough of a punishment. 

Becky glared at him with absolute hatred in her eyes. "Go to hell freak." 

Crane lifted up the canister and sprayed her full in the face. Becky screamed and curled into a ball sobbing and screaming alternatively. He'd give her the antidote in as few hours. He didn't want her permanently damaged. Then again maybe he'd leave her a little longer. After all, the Scarecrow reasoned. It would be her punishment for calling him a freak as well. 

Becky was trapped in a world of nightmares. She was in third grade. Bullies had broken her cane and she was curled into a ball as they kicked her legs. The dream morphed. She was in college. Brett Colon, the boy who made it his job to make her life hell had kicked her cane out from underneath her. Everyone was laughing at her and Becky cried. The dream morped agan. She was in sixth grade, eavsdropping on her parents as they discussed her. Her mother was disapointed that she wasn't girly enough. Her father was sad that she wasn't sporty. That had been the year Becky started wearing skirts and playing catch. She'd tried so hard to make them proud and now they hardly ever spoke. And the nightmares went on and on as Becky alternatively screamed and cried. 

Scarecrow let Becky scream for three hours before he considered giving her the antidote. He then waited another half hour before giving it to her. 

"Shush shush." He murmered as he injected her with the antidote, mixed with a sedative "You'll sleep it off. And maybe next time you'll be a little more polite." 

He left Becky to unconsiousness. For the third time that day. Becky was unconsious and at the mercy of one of Gothams most feared criminals.

Sometimes life sucked.

A/N. Poor Becky. Oh well life goes on. I know that Becky isn't really suicidal in the comic but well. She DID say she'd die before she joined him. So yeah. Suicide attempt.

GlenCoco- Sorry no rabid fangirls. Only sane chicks around the scarecrow (for now at least.)

Thanks to all my favers reviewers and watchers. I'd hug you all but that might be creepy. What with me tracking you all down and whatnot.


	6. Chapter 6

A change of Heart Chapter Six

Jonathan had planned to start work on Becky's psyche as soon as she'd arrived. However her suicide attempt and 'punishment' had meant that he had been forced to delay until the next day. He waited for her to awake, watching her face intently onscreen. She was having a nightmare. It could be an effect of his toxin, but he doubted it. The antidote should have cleared that up. He drank in her fear as she tossed and turned. Her hands clutching at her hair. Suddenly she went dead still. Then she detangled her fingers from her hair and sat up. Considering the rise and fall of her chest Jonathan gathered that she was breathing heavily. He wondered exactly what it was that had terrified her so much. Him perhaps? The last twenty-four hours alone would be enough to imprint his presence in her subconsious. Let alone the months he had spent working on her from within Arkham. He smiled and stood. Heading towards her cell. He would be sure to enjoy this. 

Becky screamed as birds dove down at her from all directions. She screamed and clutched at her hair as they pecked at her skull. She screamed and tried to twist away as her eyes were pecked out of her skull. 

Then Becky woke up. She lay totally still for a moment, her breathing ragged. The she slowly worked her fingers loose from her long red hair. she sat up and ran her hand through her hair. Where had that come from. It was like something from an Alfred Hitchcock movie. She shuddered. She'd never really been afraid of birds. But there was something creepy about them, at least she thought so anyway. She shuddered. She heard the door handle begin to creak open and stood up. Hands balled into fists, ignoring the pain the action caused her wrists. She glared as 'Dr' Crane walked in, observing her calmly. 

"Sleep well?" He enquired, his voice mocking. "I do hope I won't have to sedate you every night. It really is rather tiresome." 

Becky simply glared. She wasn't going to play his game. 

Crane continued regardless, "You may as well get make the best of this you know. You're not going anywhere unless I say so." 

Becky spoke, "The police will be looking for me. They'll put you back in Arkham where you belong." Her voice was cold. 

The Scarecrow laughed. "I don't think so. I took the liberty of sending some emails under your name. Your friends and family think that your hiding incognito in Metropolis until I'm back behind bars. They won't expect any word from you." 

Becky felt her eyes brim with tears. She was stuck here and no-one was even looking for her. She was trapped here with the Scarecrow until he decided to let her go. She was going to die. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She did nothing to stop them. 

"Shh, shh." Crane whispered. He reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It's not that bad. I won't do anything TOO bad to you. As long as you behave yourself hmm? You might even thank me one day." He smiled with false benevolence. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, for now anyway." He chuckled and left. Becky continued to weep in silence. 

Jonathan proceeded to walk to his laboratory where he began to cococt some more of his notorious fear-gas. He began to relax as he went through the familiar motions. He felt a little guilty about Becky's tears. But it was important that he destroyed any foolish notions of being found. Anyway his mistress needed to be strong. A little bad news shouldn't be enough to reduce her to tears. He smirked thinking of how he'd wiped away her tears. She had been to upset at the time to really register it. It would be bothering her now though. He could imagine how annoyed at hersef she must be for not fighting back. 

Becky was not annoyed at herself. She. Was. Furious! She'd just stood there and let him touch her. no snappy comeback no clever reply. Hell even some basic swearwords would have got the point across. But nooooo, she'd just let him wipe away her tears make some smart-arse comment and leave. She could have hit him, or bitten his hand. Even moving her face away might have helped. Instead she'd practically put up a sign saying; 'Hey vunerable girl with no fighting spirit ready ready for manipulation, I won't do anything I'm to bloody THICK!' She slid down to the floor groaning in self-recrimation. She NEEDED to get out of there. Crane would break her. She had no doubt about that, and she had no desire to spend the rest of her life in and out of a nuthouse. She wondered exactly how Crane planned to go about turning her into his mistress. She didn't have a watch or clock but she reckoned that it had been a few hours since she'd last seen him. She guessed that the irregular visits were designed to mess up her internal clock. Thanks to all the time she'd spent sleeping and sedated she had no idea what time it was. She sighed and rested her head on the wall. She'd been his captive for maybe two days at most and already he was all she could think about. It wasn't like there was much else she could do. The cell was completely bare. Just four walls and a mattress. Crane had taken away her handbag and even if he hadn't. Putting on make-up wasn't exactly an exiting task. She sighed, contrary as it was she was almost looking forward to Cranes next little speech about how he was completely sane and how fear was power and all that. At least it was something to do. She stood up and began to pace the room nervously. This was not good. She should be dreading every visit. Or at least be indifferent. Looking forward to it was not a good thing. She sat back down with a thud and wrapped her arms around her legs. She would have to be smart here. Pretend to be well behaved and act like she was listening. Eventually he'd lower his guard and she'd escape. Yes. She nodded internally. That was exactly what she'd do. 

Scarecrows were, by nature, patient things, Jonathan Crane was no exception. He knew that Becky was not going to be easy to work on, but he was willing to put the work into it. He was certain she'd be worth it it the end. It was with this thought in mind that he entered Becky's cell for the second time that day. She was looking decidedly more determined now. No doubt she'd try and convince him to let her go, or trick him into trusting her. Honestly did she think he was an ameteur? She wouldn't be the first to try those tricks. 

He smirked at her "Good day my Mistress." 

Becky glared "I am not your Mistress." 

Scarecrow shrugged, "Only a matter of time. I trust you are happy with your accomadation." the sarcastic tone was back. 

"Well ten out of ten for peace and quiet but the room's pretty bare and the room service sucks." She replied equally sarcastic. 

The Scarecrow blinked. He'd expected something more along the lines of rightous anger and less flippant. Still time to get started. He knew very little about her childhood, it was as good a place as any to start. "What was your childhood like?" He asked. 

Becky looked surprised. Clearly she hadn't expected him to be so direct. She shrugged. "It was ok, school was a pain, but of course you already knew that. My parents were ok though. They wanted the best for me." 

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by, 'the best for you'?" 

Becky fidgeted. "They tried to help me fit in more. My mother bought me dresses and stuff in an attempt to make me seem more girly. My father taught me to play what sports I could with my condition." 

"Ah so they tried to force their idea of what you should be on you." he stated. 

"No! It wasn't like that. They didn't force me to do anything!" She snapped. Angry. 

"Oh really?" Jonathan was skeptical "So would you have chosen to wear dressed yourself, did you choose your clothes and activities." 

"Well no, but I was a kid it was there job to choose what I wore." she replied. 

"And the sport? You don't strike me as the athletic type. Was that all your choice?" 

"No, but, they wanted me to fit in. It was for my sake." Becky was flustered. 

"Oh so forcing you to be someone your not. Pressuring you into being someone else. These are what society expects of people like us. do you know why?" an unusual fervour lit Jonathans eyes. 

Becky was recovering fom the allegations against her parents. She latched on eagerly to the subject change. "Let me guess, fear?" she said, her voice layered with scepticism. 

Scarecrow was in his element now. "Exactly Becky, everything people do is motivated by fear. Your parents tried to make you blend in because they were afraid people would judge them to be bad parents. People get married because they are afraid of being alone. People have children because they are afraid of leaving nothing behind. And you refuse to be my mistress because you are afraid that society will judge you." 

"I am not!" Becky cried indignantly. "I just don't want to hurt people." 

"Oh? And why is that?" he shot back. 

Becky was silent for a moment, "Because...because, it's wrong." she she snapped. 

"Oh, and who decides what's wrong and what's right? Society, so tell me Becky, if your not scared why won't you join me." 

Becky said nothing. She was close to tears. 

"Thought so." Crane said smugly. 

They were silent for a while. Suddenly Becky broke the silence. "I need to go to the bathroom." 

Crane smirked, "Right this way." He led her towards the door, "And by the way," he stopped suddenly, Becky almost walked into him. "Don't try to run." 

she glared at him and followed him out of the room as he resumed walking. The bathroom was medium sized. With a shower/bath in the corner. Now she thought about it. Becky could use a shower. 

Almost as if he'd read her mind Crae knocked on the door. "You have half an hour to shower and otherwise clean yourself up. There's nothing in there you can use as a weapon so don't even try. If your not done in that time then I am coming in, whether you're dressed or not." he called. 

Becky shuddered at the idea of him seeing her in the shower. "I haven't got anything to change into." she replied. 

She heard shuffling on the other side of the door. Then a long skinny arm reached in holding a bag. Becky edged forward and snatched it before backing away nervously. She opened the sack and dropped it on the floor. "Seriously Crane ANOTHER mistress of fear costume. How many do you have?" 

"Enough, anything else?" he was back to the sarcasm. 

"Can I please have some of the stuff from my bag, PLEASE?" she didn't like begging but she didn't want to wear that costume. It was like a surrender and the burlap itched. 

On the other side of the door Jonathan Crane smirked. Now she had some humility. "I don't think so. Now hurry up. Clock's ticking." he left her to shower. 

Becky briefly considered trying to escape but decided against it. He might not have locked the door. But if she tried to run she had no doubt he'd catch her. And she did not need another punishment. She tried to relax in the shower. He wasn't going to kill her and worrying would do her no good. She lathered the shampoo in her hair and combed her fingers through it. She rinsed it out quickly and didn't bother with conditioner, not enough time. She dried off quickly, leaving her hair to dry naturally. It would frizz without the mousse she used normally. But right now she had bigger problems. She put on the costume Crane had given her. Adjusting the straps so that it would stay up without the mask. Which she hung around the back of the dress like a hood. She perched on the edge of the bath and attempted to comb and style her hair with her fingers. Jonathan hadn't thought to give her a comb. Men, she thought wearily, doesn't matter who they are or what they do for a living they always forget these things. She sat there for a few minutes longer before the Scarecrow walked in. 

He surveyed her sitting there. She looked much better for the shower. He noticed that she wasn't wearing her mask. Interesting. It would seem that she didn't like hiding her face. Unusual for a girl who had probably spent a great deal of her life wanting to be invisible. He studied her expression. Defiant, but scared to. He led her back to her room in silence. He left her alone. She needed to think about what he'd said.


	7. Chapter 7

A Change Of Heart Chapter Seven

Being prisoner to the Scarecrow wasn't as bad as Becky had thought it would be. She didn't get out much, and Crane still had way to much control over her for her liking. But it wasn't too bad. He hadn't fear-gassed her since the first day. And as before in Arkham Becky was forced to admit that she did enjoy his company. She also had to concede that he had a point in a lot of things. Her parents had tried to make her into the ideal daughter. Society did judge people, it did repress people who were different. And the point she'd fought hardest to ignore. Fear was power. She had no idea how long she'd been Crane's prisoner. a few months maybe? She didn't really care. She had no control over how long she was held captive. Crane claimed that if she became his mistress then she'd be able to come and go as she pleased. Becky doubted it, even if she agreed. He probably wouldn't trust her. Becky sighed. She wasn't going to take him up on his offer. She'd decided that ages ago. She had a plan. Then again, plans changed. Becky shook her head vehemently. Some of Cranes chemicals must be coming through the vents. That or she was going crazy. She smiled slightly. If Jonathan knew what she was thinking he'd probably say that she was more sane than the average Gothamite. Becky had no plans o suddenly join him in a rein of terror. But she didn't hate him. She had begun to hate er parents a little. It might not have been intentional. But they had tried to turn her into something she wasn't. Still she wasn't the 'Mistress of Fear' Crane seemed to think she could be. She was still Becky Albright, but sometimes she had to wonder. For how long. 

The Scarecrow was certain Becky was ready. The ideas were there. Planted in her head due to six months of lectures, discussions and subliminal messaging. The motivation was there, the bullying, the idiotic parents she'd had to suffer through growing up. But she was to. Damn. Stubborn. She wasn't just going to wake up one morning and decide she wanted to become accomplice to one of the greatest criminals in Gotham. She was at he tipping point. He needed a catalyst. Something that would force her into ghoulish embrace where he would make sure she'd remain forever. He needed her to taste what he could give her. She needed to come on a heist. 

Becky glanced up as the Scarecrow entered her cell. 

"Hey Jonathan." 

Jonathan looked at her. She was sitting on her mattress looking up at him. She'd stopped being hostile a few weeks ago. Her attitude had been softening ever since. He often saw her nodding as he spoke about the power of fear and the shackles of society. 

"Hello Becky, how would you like to go out today." 

Hope suddenly lit up Becky's face. She hadn't been outside since her capture. She missed it. 

"I'd love it! But why?" her tone became suspicious. She seriously doubted that Crane was taking her for a walk in the park. 

"I have work to do and I could use your assistance." he replied 

Becky's eyes widened. She seriously doubted that this 'work' was legal. Mixing chemicals wasn't enough to warrrent a trip outside. He wanted her to commit a crime, she realised. 

"Uh uh. No way. You can commit your own crimes Crane leave me out of it." she snapped. 

She went to turn away. 

"Either you do as I say or you will be punished." he told her coldly. 

Becky froze. She was fairly certain of what her punishment would be. She had no desire to repeat the experience. 

"Ok Crane. I'll help you." she sighed. Defeated. 

The Scarecrow smirked. "Excellent, I have already prepared the supplies. Come." 

Becky followed him from the room. She put on the costume Crane handed to her without complaint. It had only been about a week since he'd started allowing her to wear any of the clothes she'd packed in her brief attempt at flight from Gotham, and the burlap she'd been forced to wear was no so familiar it was almost comforting. She turned the canister of fear-gas he handed her over and over in her palm. He was close enough that she could pull his mask off fairly easily. Then gas him with his own toxin and run. But she didn't. She wasn't entirely sure why. She could always claim that she hadn't wanted to sink to his level, or that it was to risky. But that wasn't it. She just didn't want to hurt him. 

Wayne enterprises was a huge force in Gotham. It regularly shipped supplies of weapons and materials in and out of the city. It was the latter that the Scarecrow was interested, a delivery of chemicals used in the creation of chemical weapondry was being delivered to the companies headquaters in Gotham. He would have more than adequate supplies to continue his experiments. 

Becky was nervous. She didn't know why Crane was taking her on a heist. She didn't particularly care. She wasn't interested in his life of crime. She got out of the van in front of wayne enterprises and went to follow the Scarecrows lead. Then thay stepped through the double doors into the lobby. And at the sight of several thugs in gas masks, one of the most feared men on Gotham, and a woman in matching attire. All hell broke loose.


	8. Chapter 8

A change of Heart Chapter Eight

People were screaming and panicking already. Jonathan smirked underneath his mask as he leaned on his scythe. He hadn't even released the toxin yet. He glanced over at Becky. Her body lanuage screamed nervous. Even armed and wearing a mask. She was still afraid of what he'd do. He slipped behind her.

"Wonderful isn't it." he whispered in her ear.

Becky flinched, she hadn't heard him approach. She'd been to preoccupied with the scene of mayhem before her.

"All this fear caused by nothing but my presence. Why not give them something more to fear."

She watched in horror as he gently lifted her arm and pressed the button on the canister she held. A stream of the greenish gas she remembered so well sprayed out and nearby civillians fell to the ground and began screaming about insects and snakes and the dark to name but a few. Becky couldn't help but feel contempt for them. What did they know of fear. To be so terrified of something so insignificant. Pathetic. She shook herself internally. What was she thinking. These poor people. She should be trying to help them. She thought about moving to help the young woman in a buisness who huddled so terrified against the wall. but she didn't. On reflection, she really didn't care. Why should she help these people. What had they ever done for her.

Crane watched as Becky stood frozen. So far she'd made no move to help anyone. Good. He really didn't want to break any notions of heroism from her psyche. She wasn't screaming or crying. Excellent. He'd rather not deal with an overly-emotionaly Mistress of Fear.

"Enjoying the show my Mistress." He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Becky flinched and drew away from him. "I'm not your mistress." she spat.

"Your clothes and wherabouts say different my dear." He countered.

Becky glanced down at her rather unusual attire. "You made me do this." she whispered, half to herself.

Crane smirked. "Oh really, you didn't argue to strongly when I told you of this, and now here you stand. Remarkably composed. Not rushing to anyones aid or trying to run away."

Becky flinched at his words and considered bolting. She had a better chance escaping now than she had had in months. She should take it.

"I wouldn't try running away, I'll only catch you. Then you'll have to be punished." he stepped towards her.

Becky jumped. It was like he'd read her mind. How had she known she was thinking about it. He took another step towards her. They were practically nose to nose now. Well, nose to chest anyway. Hired thugs scurried around lifting crates of chemicals and loading them into the van outside. Scarecrow was pleased. Not only was he taking veritable leaps concerning Becky's mental state. The heist seemed to be going without a hitch. With no sign of the batman. Ah speak of the devil. The black suited thorn in his side had just arrived. Gothams dark knight swung through the entrance.

The Batman stood for a moment. His cape billowing in what little breeze there was. He assessed the situation. The armed thugs. The Scarecrow. The woman he stood so close to in matching attire. He sprang into action. Incapacitating the first of the henchmen in moments. One of the remaining opened fire. Batman ducked and tackled the gunman to the ground. Knocking the thug unconsious. Scarecrow grabbed Becky's wrist and started dragging her towards the exit. Batman dispatched the last of the henchmen. He strode towards the Scarecrow.

"Crane." He growled. He glared at Becky. "See you found a woman as screwed up as you."

The Scarecrow glowered through his mask. The pointy eared menace always showed up at the most incovienient moment.

"I think, Batman, that you are in no position to comment on another persons mental state." he sneered.

The Scarecrow clutched Beckys wrist posessivly. He could feel her shaking.

The Bat growled and charged. Jonathan wheeled his scythe with practised motions. Whilst keeping a hand on Beckys arm. Batman was forced back and Scarecrow began backing towards the door. Dragging Becky with him still wheeling the scythe.

Becky whimpered quietly as the scarecrow began tugging her towards the door. If he lost control of that scythe for one second... She repressed a shudder. It was the black suited man on the other side of the weapon that she needed to worry about. She had no doubt that he'd punch first and ask questions later. She couldn't blame him. In his place she'd probably take the costume and company as enough evidence towards her intentions. And she knew that arkham was not somewhere she wanted to be.

Suddenly Batman threw a batarang. Knocking the scythe from the scarecrows hand. He threw another and knocked Crane to the ground. Becky remained standing. the Bat tackled her. He pinned her against the wall.

"Who are you? Why are you working with Crane?" He barked at her.

Becky whimpered in terror. He was a lot more terrifying when she wasn't the victim.

Batman realised that the woman wasn't going to talk. He ripped off the burlap mask to see. Becky Albright. His eyes widened behing the cowl. Of all the things he'd expected to see this wasn't it.

Then Becky found her voice. "Help me." She gasped.

The batman paused for a moment. The young woman looked terrified. She hadn't actually done anything. But Becky Albright was supposed to be in Metropolis. Not stealing some company shipment.

Suddenly Batman became aware of a gleaming blade whistling towards him. He ducked to see the Scarecrows scythe narrowly miss his head. Sometime whilst he was distracted Crane had regained his footing and untangled his legs. Now once again scythe in hand the Scarecrow was attacking.

"Get away from her!" He roared. Becky was HIS. She would be his Mistress of Fear and no-one damaged the Scarecrows property.

The blade whipped back towards the dark knight and he hurled himself backwards. Dropping Becky. Her head cracked against the wall. She slumped to the ground.

Cranes face twisted in fury. He lunged at Batman. Scythe whistling through the air.

It knocked him down. Batman was bleeding on the ground.

Much as he'd have loved to finish him off there and then. The police had arrived. The Scarecrow had to go.

He hurried over to Becky.

"Are you alright." He snapped his brusque tone concealing any concern he may have felt. He grabbed her wrist and helped her up. "We have to go." he told her coldly. Leading her towards the van.

Becky just nodded. Clutching at her head with her free hand. She didn't resist. Letting the Scarecrow drag her towards the van.

The Batman stood up in the bank. Ignoring the pain in his side. He exited the bank swiftly. He had no time to deal with police.

He had some questions to ask about one Becky Albright.


	9. Chapter 9

A Change Of Heart Chapter Nine

Becky repressed a groan as the van jolted over another bump in the road. Aparently being droppped and having your head smash into a wall caused a killer headache. Every bump left her feeling like a red hot poker had been shoved into her brain, and there were a lot of bumps. Her back ached and she was going to have bruises the next day. All this was iconsequential next to one thing.

She'd been recognised. Batman knew that it was her wearing the costume and it was a fair bet that he thought she was a willing accomplice. If she was rescued now she'd be sent straight to Arkham. With Crane and the other crazies of Gotham for company. She did not want that. For once she was glad of the mask that hid her face. She had no idea what her expression was like but she doubted she looked strong, calm and capable. She needed to look tough. Strong. Because in Gotham weak people died every day and no-one gave a damn. She had to be strong or she'd never get through this.

Batman glared at the batcomputer as he reread Becky Albrights file. It was irritatingly blank. She'd undergone some therapy after her first encounter with the scarecrow, nothing of importance had been unearthed though. By all accounts she'd coped well and moved on. Her background was vauge. Loving parents excellent school record. Some incidents of bullying but nothing explicit was on record. Though Batman guessed that much of the extent of the bullying had been kept quiet or gone unnoticed. He'd read the file before. When Crane had originally targeted her. He'd wanted to know if there was any connection between the two that would explain the rouge's offer. There was none. The only new information was that since the attack she had paid several visits to Crane in Arkham. Even then there was no record of what happened during the visits themselves. No record of any threats or promises the Scarecrow might have made. Batman sighed and leant back in his chair. Wincing as the motion aggravated his wound. He heard the faint noise of a tray being set down and turned to see his butler and friend Alfred Pennyworth deposit a sandwich on the table behind him.

"Is there a problem sir?" The elderly gentleman enquired politely.

Bruce grunted, "The Scarecrow has Rebecca Albright"

The butler raised an eyebrow, "The young lady who refused to become his accomplice? Has he kidnapped her?"

"Possibly, she was with him at a break in at Wayne Enterprises, in full costume. She was the one who fear gassed the victims." Bruce replied.

"Then it would appear that the Scarecrow has broken her entirely sir." Alfred observed.

"I'm not so sure, she seemed terrified. It's possible that he's threatened her." Bruce grunted.

"Indeed sir. If you'll excuse me I have things to do." The old man left.

Batman turned back to the screen. Maybe there was something he'd missed.

Scarecrow glanced covertly at Becky. She looked exhausted and defeated. Good. She'd be much easier to manipulate that way. The heist had gone reasonably well considering the bats involvement. Most of the chemicals had been loaded up into the van before his interruption. Scarecrow had been forced to leave his hired goons behind. No matter. They were easily replaced.

He was a little concerned about Becky. She'd hit her head when the vigilante had dropped her and it was possible she had a concussion.

Oh well if she was going to be his partner then she'd have to get used to such injuries.

So far she'd said nothing since the short conversation they'd had before the Bat's arrival. It had probably been something of a shock for her, being seen as the villain rather than the victim. Few people ever wondered what it was like to be on the recieving end of the vigilantes punches.

"I can't go home now can I," Becky said suddenly. She glared at him resentfully. "Everyone thinks I'm working with you, that I CHOSE this."

Jonathan nodded. "No you can't. I'm afraid that as far as the good people of Gotham are concerned. You're a criminal."

Becky put her head in her hands. "Well I guess I'm fucked aren't I. You've won. The whole world thinks I'm your bloody Mistress of Fear. And there isn't shit I can do about it."

The Scarecrow blinked. He'd never heard Becky sound off like that. Still, she'd been through a lot today it was understandable.

"Indeed. I'm afraid it's me or Arkham." He replyed cooly. Seeming unruffled by her choice of language.

Becky laughed bitterly. "Either way I still end up in a padded cell. Only difference is how long before I go in."

Cranes eyes narrowed slightly at that. She had a point though. Much to his chagrin the Batman managed to drag him into Arkham far more often than he'd like.

"Perhaps, but I guarentee you that if you go in as my Mistress you'll have a far easier time of it than if you go in alone. No-one would mess with you under my protection. And you'd have a far greater chance of escape." He shot back.

Becky sighed and slumped in her seat. "Just let me think alright." she muttered.

Crane nodded and turned his gaze ahead. He'd removed his mask shortly after exiting the bank. The last thing he needed was to be recognised by some imbecile during his gettaway. He arrived at the hideout and Becky went into her cell without complaint. No doubt physically and mentally exhausted. He went to his lab and began working to replace the fear-gas he'd used at the bank. But his thoughts constantly turned to Becky. Would the days antics at the bank be enough to make her turn to crime? She was no fool. After some rest and a chance to calm down she'd soon realise that he hadn't been strictly honest with her. She'd probably get off scott-free should she be rescued now. No-one would believe her to be willingly aiding him. Except the tabloids. And no intelligent person believed those. Just the teeming masses of Gotham.

Still. Those would serve their purpose. Paranoia was a wonderful thing. Enough to make the sanest person doubt themselves and their position. Not to mention someone with a mental state as fragile as Becky's. He was so close. He could almost taste victory.

Becky lay in her cell and sobbed. He'd effectively won. She might not be his mistress yet. But he'd more or less cut off her escape route. She'd end up in an institution if the police ever found her. Even if she somehow got off the hook for that she'd forever be known as the Scarecrows bitch. The girl who had a supervillain after her because she'd had the stupid idea of testifying against him. The girl who'd fear gassed a bunch of people because he'd told her to.

Becky wept on her matress. Curled into a ball. It didn't matter which way she turned. The future, was a very bleak place.

Hey big pile of chapters up. Sorry it took so long. It's been pretty hectic around here.


	10. Chapter 10

The Scarecrow unloaded the crates of chemicals quickly, quietly wishing he'd at least brought one thug back from the scene to do the heavy work. Becky was in her room. He knew she was crying. Even without the benefit of cameras she could be heard weeping through the wall.

He found her crying mildly unsettling. Becky had always made an effort to hide her emotions. Not successfully of course. But such a blatant display of emotion was unlike her. It was not befitting for a future mistress of fear to weep so. It made her weak. Of course it was only temporary, after this Becky would either break completely, in which case he's rebuild her personality completely, or she's harden to the world, in which case she'd be ready to become his Mistress.

Becky stopped crying.

She dragged her arm along her face. Trying to wipe away the tears. Her eyes were puffy and sore.

She wrapped her arms around herself. Time to think. She'd been seen in costume, with the scarecrow, by batman. Batman had probably told the cops. The police would now have her listed as a wanted felon.

She thought back. How long had she BEEN here. She'd lost track of the days. A few months maybe.

She was very scared.

How long had Crane been planning this. Had he just decided to kidnap her on the night he escaped. Or had he been planning it longer.

Her mind went back to her conversation with Cal. Now she thought about it, he hadn't sounded like a guy tired of his girlfriend. He'd sounded SCARED. Not to mention he'd seemed concerned when she hadn't answered him, and he'd kept calling her Becks. Which had always been his nickname for her. Now she thought about it. It seemed a little off. Had Crane organised it. But he'd been in Arkham. He couldn't have, could he?

She'd gone running straight to him. Why had she done that. She didn't have many friends but surely there was someone better than a known felon she could of gone to. Since when had she been so needy anyway.

It was chilling to think of how much power he'd had over her without even being there. It was like he'd been in her head.

It was even more frighting to think about how much control he had over her now.

The looking for an escape oppurtunity had been almost forgotten. The idea of running away hadn't been a serious goal in weeks.

It was almost as if she liked being there.

No, she hated it. She hated him.

Becky's eyes began to water.

It looked like she wasn't done crying yet after all.

A.N. ok, not happy here. This is just filler because I can't think of anything else. Plus I figure that Becky would be questioning herself a lot right now. Sorry it took me so long to update but I've developed an obsession with Bleach which has taken up a lot of time.

I own nothing. Please review.


	11. Chapter 11

Becky was calm. It had taken a while. But the tears were over. Her face expressionless.

She sat on the straw matress, and stared into space. It didn't matter.

She was a prisoner of the scarecrow, she was a wanted felon, and her chances of escape were practically nil.

But the situation wasn't completely beyond her control. At Wayne Enterprises she'd been frozen with fear. She's spent the last however many weeks in a constant state of nervousness, fear just below the surface.

Not any more.

Becky's new policy was indifference. If she didn't react, if she didn't panic. Then she'd be calm enough to notice any openings or oppurtunities.

She didn't care whether or not the police came looking for her. She didn't care if the batman was on her side. The only thing that mattered, was her survival. Whatever it took. She wouldn't become a criminal, but she had no intention of being a helpless civillian either.

The next time Crane took her out. She'd run.

She would not let him beat her. She was no fool. She could do this. She could survive.

She could win.

Even if she had to kill Crane to do it.

She didn't care.

Jonathon Crane watched Becky through the monitors. His expression was clinical, cold. Becky's face was empty. She had conquered her fear, and Jonathon was pleased.

Granted ths would make her harder to control, and she was more likely to attempt escape now that she had moved past her hysteria. But it was a big step in preparing her for her future role as his mistress.

The mind was a delicate thing. Alternatively impossible to predict and easy to manipulate. Full of contradictions, traits both common and unique.

A persons psyche changed as they grew. The mind of a child was very different from when they grew up, minute changes were constant. But a complete personality shift was rare. This was what was needed to create the mistress he needed.

A complete change of Beckys morals, her thougt processes, her loyalties, would not happen instantly. It would take time. There would be stages.

Indifference was the first step.

A.N It took forever, it's not very good. It's very short.

I'm not happy but it's all I've got.

Please comment fave etc

i own nothing. 


	12. Chapter 12

Scarecrow had begun to slip drugs into Becky's food and water.

Not fear-gas, not any kind of hallucinogin, instead a variety of chemicals which were much more subtle in their effects.

Drugs that lowered inhibitions to the point where Becky blurted out whatever came into her mind. Drugs that placed Becky in a highly suggestable state, where she could be easily manipulated. Drugs that caused Becky to form attatchments to the closest person to her.

Essentially, Dr Crane was attempting to cause Becky to develop Stockholm Syndrome, of course the drugs were subtle, they acted on a subconsious level, Scarecrow noticed their effects, she did not. It was working, in a way, Becky did not trust him, she still wanted to escape, however Crane now had a near complete understanding of how her mind worked.

Becky knew he was drugging her, it was obvious, how else could she explain the moodswings, or the way he always seemed to know how she was feeling, always ready with a cup of coffee and a friendly ear, or a lecture, or whatever else worked to his advantage. She didn't care, what did it matter, really. Maybe it would be better if he succeeded, what did she have to go back to. Maybe it would be better if she stayed here, did what he asked of her, wore the costume.

No no no no no, that was HIM talking. She had to get out she NEEDED to get out she had, she had, something. She must have something, or she would one day. Meet a nice guy, have a good career, have kids and retire to a beach somewhere with her silver haired husband beside her.

An involuntary shudder of contempt ran through her. Was that really all she wanted from her life, it was so boring, so mediocre, so tedious. She wanted more, so much more. She wanted power. Power over life, power over death.

Power over fear.

And so Becky Albright sat up long into the night, wrestling with her greed, her lust for power, for fear, and the man who wielded it. Until she slept.

The woman who woke was not the same one who fell asleep the night before.

A.N. It took forever but I'm reasonably happy with it. I'm sorry for the weight I have no excuse.

I own nothing

please comment fave etc


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